


Premiere

by Silvestria



Category: The London Life (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Innuendo, Limousine Sex, Lunete snogs Jared Leto, Monty is a film star, and more - Freeform, everyone is drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvestria/pseuds/Silvestria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monty needs a date for the Hollywood premiere of his latest blockbuster movie. For some reason he invites his best friend's little sister. It's not just the movie getting its first release that night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Ellie, for letting me borrow Monty.

He asked her over DM on Twitter. Obviously. Heaven forbid he used any more sensible method of communication.  
  
 _Got this premiere thing next month and need a date. You're the only vaguely family type person I've got on this continent. Wanna come?_  
  
"This premiere thing" turned out to be the Hollywood premiere of his first _Gentleman Bastards_ movie, the most hyped big screen adaptation of the year. After wondering why he didn't ask her brother instead (she had to read their godawful flirting on Twitter every single day, but on the other hand he was in France), she had to agree. Who wouldn't want to be Locke Lamora's date?  
  
Unlike her elder brother, Lunete kept quite a low public profile. She only had a couple of hundred followers on Twitter which she mainly used to follow politicians and troll Monty and Jeannot and her Instagram was almost exclusively photos of her cat. She wanted a serious career and to make something of herself in the world for all the right reasons... And yet. There was a part of her that thrilled to the very core at the thought of stepping out onto the red carpet in a glamorous dress and having her face on the front cover of every magazine. She was so close to fame and yet so far it had not touched her. Why should she not have a taste of it?  
  
For the next month she daydreamed almost continually about headlines and photoshoots. They'd all assume she was Monty's girlfriend, which was hilarious, but she did not much care. (She even DMed him as such and he just replied "Lucky you! :P" which was just typical.) She didn't tell anyone on her course she was going, except for her best friend Flora who was helping her dress shop, for she wanted it to be a complete surprise when they saw the pictures appear online.  
  
Finally, the day arrived. She had booked herself into a five star hotel downtown for the night to do things in style - oh the shame of being picked up from her dorm room! She had shimmied into her figure hugging black and silver dress with the red heels and was waiting anxiously in the lobby, Flora at her side for moral support to add the odd touch up of makeup.  
  
Then the hubbub began and the lightbulbs started going off as a limo drew up outside. Lunete remained where she was, the feeling of nerves growing so strong that the palms of her hands felt clammy. _Pull yourself together!_ she told herself. It was Monty, the idiot, and nobody was going to care about her - they were all there to see him.  
  
"Oh my god! It's Rawdon Montgomery!" somebody shouted and the cry was taken up all round the lobby. Lunete raised her chin higher and let it wash over her.  
  
Then he was there in front of her, looking very dapper in his tuxedo, and surrounded by fangirls with camera phones.  
  
"Uh. Hi Lunie. You look... Um..." said the international star of the latest fantasy blockbuster eloquently.  
  
Lunete's eyes widened. "You _shaved_!"  
  
How long they would have stood there staring at each other and surrounded by amateur flash bulbs, it is hard to say if a thickset man in a suit and an ear piece had not somehow managed to usher them out of the hotel and straight into the limo.  
  
Then the doors closed behind them and silence fell on the dark, leather interior of the car. Monty ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end.  
  
"So... Champagne?" he asked with a grin.  
  
Lunete ignored the fact that she was technically underage in this country and accepted. It was excellent champagne and the more she had of it the better she felt about the whole thing.  
  
"I'm so glad you said yes," said Monty eventually. "Like, this is it. I just know it. This is what is going to make me. This is the part I was born to play."  
  
"The girls in that hotel seemed to think you'd made it already. Did you even notice one of them slipped her number into your pocket?  
  
"What, really?" He felt around in his pocket and drew out a scrap of paper. " _Cool!_ This job is the best! Was she hot?"  
  
"Minging," said Lunete, snatching the paper out of his hand and tearing it into shreds.  
  
"Hey-" He made a face. "Anyway, I was trying to say that I'm glad I've got you with me. It's like, I didn't want just anybody here on the carpet tonight. And you look, you look really pretty, Lunete."  
  
He ducked his head as he spoke as if he was embarrassed. Lunete made a face at him and said, "Oh fuck off," because she didn't know what to do with compliments.  
  
"Fuck you too!" he said, giving her shoulder a shove and making her fall over onto the leather seat in giggles, because this was far more normal.  
  
"Jackass," she retorted, grabbing his bow tie and pulling him down after her until his face was only inches away from hers.  
  
Then the car stopped.  
  
"Shitting balls, we're here," said Monty and in one seamless movement he pulled himself off her, straightened his bow tie and stepped out of the limo when the door opened, flashing the hundred megawatt smile at the cameras that had won him a place in Cosmo's 'Top 50 Most Datable Men of 2015'.  
  
Lunete sat up and pulled her dress down, grabbed her shiny red clutch and pressed her hand to her chest for a brief moment because her heart was thumping so hard she felt it might burst out of her chest.  
  
Then a hand appeared in the doorway and the hundred megawatt smile was turned on her. She clasped the hand, stuck first one slender leg then the other out of limo and finally emerged into the glare and noise of Hollywood.


	2. Chapter 2

Lunete's head was pounding. There was a rhythmical thumping in her brain that dragged her out of sleep and into consciousness. She began to be aware that her body ached all over and in places she would not have expected, that her legs were so limp that she was bearly conscious of having them at all, that there was a heavy pressure on her chest that nothing could explain and that the light behind her eyelids was painful. Not to mention the incessant thumping in her brain.  
  
She had never been this hungover in all her twenty years. She didn't even need to open her eyes to know that.  
  
As she surfaced further, her consciousness became clearer. Firstly, that the thumping was not in her head; someone was actually banging on a door somewhere. Secondly, that the weight on her chest was not evidence of an impending heart attack but rather some physical object. Thirdly, that for reasons she could not perfectly understand, she had decided to eschew pyjamas in favour of sleeping naked.  
  
She opened her eyes. A mistake, and not just because she could feel her eyelids crack where the mascara had stuck together. The room was far too bright. For a moment she couldn't think where she was. Her dorm room had much thicker curtains.  
  
She stared at the ceiling and memories started to return. She was in one of LA's poshest hotels, last night had been the _Locke Lamora_ premiere and...  
  
Lunete sat bolt upright and immediately felt nauseous. She looked down as the tanned arm fell off her and back to the side of the body it belonged to.  
  
"Adddjassssflargh!" cried Lunete and fell off the bed, following it up with a stream of French obscenities as she somehow managed to stand up on jellylike legs.  
  
Without looking any further at the extremely naked body of her brother's best friend sprawled next to her on top of the sheets, she pulled a blanket off the bed, wrapped herself in it and tottered to the door, pulled it open a crack and glared balefully into the faces of her two best friends, Flora and Claude.  
  
"You're awake!" cried Flora, eagerly trying to see past Lunete's head. She closed the door an inch further.  
  
"Fuck off," she ground out. Then, "What time is it?"  
  
"About eleven."  
  
"So you had a super awesome night, we hear!" said Claude, wiggling his eyebrows.  
  
"Says who?"   
  
"Umm, Lunie sweetheart, you might want to check your phone..."  
  
"Go away, I hate you both," she muttered and shut the door in their faces.  
  
This had expended most of her energy and she shuffled groaning to the bathroom, where she promptly threw up in the toilet. Having done this, she felt much better, dropped the blanket to the floor and got into a shower which she made as blisteringly hot as she could stand.  
  
As she let the water pour over her and soak out the knots in her aching muscles she tried to focus on the night before and work out some way in which there was a perfectly logical explanation for how she had ended up naked in bed with an equally naked movie star, who happened to be her brother's best friend and, well, she supposed he was her friend too.  
  
The film had been awesome. She remembered that. Fast-paced, hilariously funny, extremely easy on the eyes (it was alright, she had told herself, she was objectifying Locke Lamora, not the man sitting next to her), an excellent soundtrack - and she had drunk champagne all the way through.  
  
After that, they had moved on to the party and once the speeches were done, things started to get a bit hazy. She seemed to remember meeting Emma Watson and talking to her about... About Hilary Clinton! Yes, that was it. That had been great. They'd talked for ages. Lunete had thought she was extremely erudite and eloquent and Emma had been interesting too. Then she had done shots with Jared Leto and... Hmm. She had a feeling she might have made out with him but surely not... No, she _had_ made out with him! For a moment, she paused her train of thought to congratulate herself. But... Something had happened to stop it... She gave a mental shrug.  
  
They had gone on to a club afterwards and suddenly Monty was everywhere all the time. There had been dancing, lots of dancing. It had been very dark. Snatches of thumping music came back to her; heavy beats that filled your soul and bodies pressed against each other, hands and legs entwining... Oh dear... She coughed slightly in the steam of the shower, feeling really rather hot, and quickly turned off the water.  
  
They'd got a limo and... _No..._ They hadn't! Had they? But she felt her knees turn weak once more as if her body remembered more than her mind.  
  
She scrubbed at herself with a towel, as if the roughness of the action could dispel her increasing warmth. It was not working very well. Eventually, tucking it very tightly under her arms, she pushed open the bathroom door.  
  
"Bordel de merde!" she cried, covering her eyes with her hand. "Cover yourself, fils de pute!"  
  
Monty was awake. Very awake.  
  
"That wasn't what you were saying last night, Lunete!" he said, but he did pull the sheet up. "In fact, I seem to remember you were very eager to remove all my clothing as quickly as possible."  
  
She lowered her hand gingerly and narrowed her eyes at him. "Did we? I mean, I guess we did, but..." She took a tentative step forward.  
  
He was grinning at her, far too brightly for so early in the morning. He patted the bed beside him. "Literally the best night of my life, Lunie. Like, I'm not even joking."  
  
She continued to glare at him suspiciously, glaring harder whenever she felt her gaze inclined to wander down the expanse of bare chest or muscular arms. But she did sidle forwards and perch on the edge of the bed, keeping a tight hold on her towel.  
  
"Oh yeah?"  
  
"It was amazing. Like, in the limo..." His eyes were bright and eager and forced her to look at him. "That was the hottest thing I've ever done. Ever. With anyone. It was..." His gaze became slightly unfocused.  
  
Lunete squirmed. Her memory was beginning to fill in some gaps. She swallowed and broke away from him to reach for her phone. Anything not to think about what they'd done in the limo. Well, it had mostly been him if she recalled correctly. Though she had been the one to make sure the sound guard was up between the back seat and the driver.  
  
3042 new Twitter followers. A similar number of Instagram followers. 100+ Whatsapp messages. 56 separate Facebook notifications.  
  
And twenty-five missed calls from Jeannot in France. Oops.  
  
"Have you seen the buzzfeed article yet?" asked Monty in clear delight from suspiciously close behind her.  
  
"The fuck? Also, get away from me."  
  
She clicked on a link someone posted on her Facebook profile as Monty nuzzled her neck. She gritted her teeth.  
  
 _Twenty-five times Rawdon "Locke Lamora" Montgomery had the hots for date Lunete d'Aubin._  
  
Lunete felt her fingers tremble.  
  
"The best surprise at the _Lies of Locke Lamora_ premiere last night, beyond the fact that the film was actually genuinely awesome, has to be the discovery that notorious serial dater and heart thob, British actor Rawdon Montgomery, clearly has found one girl he can't keep his eyes off: his date, PolSci major at UCLA, Lunete d'Aubin, and none other than bestie Jeannot d'Aubin's little sister. Not convinced this nerdy sounding girl could be Monty's one true love? This article should convince you."  
  
"It is pretty convincing," said Monty, his arm creeping round her waist and rubbing tiny, distracting circles through the towel.  
  
He was right. The photographic evidence was very convincing indeed.  
  
"Oh my God, you punched Jared Leto?!" she exclaimed, twisting round to look at him, and immediately regretting it because her towel loosened ominously and his face was right there behind her and he leaned forward and-  
  
"Like I said, Lunie, best night of my life."  
  
She turned back to squinting at her phone. And then stopped at the final gif, number twenty-five.  
  
She was up against the side of the limo, her hands held above her head, her back arching away from the side of the car, Monty pressed flush against her, his mouth on hers. It was positively pornographic, however you looked at it. At their side, the driver was holding the door and looking thoroughly unimpressed. If Lunete was not so thoroughly turned on by this point, she would have found the juxtaposition hilarious.  
  
She could hear Monty's breathing ruffle the hair on the back of her neck. He was watching her watch them in tiny gif form. She was not sure at this point that she cared very much about the twenty-five missed calls from her brother.  
  
She put her phone down on the table and twisted so that she was facing him. The towel slipped a few inches lower and she could feel the knot loosening. She tilted her head and said reflectively, her eyes fixed on his lips, "You know, I can't quite remember everything that happened last night. Even the limo is a bit... hazy."  
  
"Sounds like you could do with a reminder or two."  
  
"Or three," she added, for her memory of what happened once they reached the hotel room (well, the hotel lift to be precise) was no longer as hazy as all that.  
  
His eyes crinkled in a very appealing way. "I guess I should help you regain these memories."  
  
"I think so..."  
  
"Starting with the limo."  
  
She could barely breathe. "Definitely starting with the limo."


End file.
